Useless Muggle Toys
by Pistols-at-dawn
Summary: Kenya Filch, a squib like her father, has been sent to live with another squib, Mrs. Figg on Pivet Drive. Can Kenya deal with a new muggle school, the exciting functions of a vacuum cleaner, and the neihbors with a hatred of all things magical while the news from her father gets worse every day? When the death eaters close in, will a squib be as useless as a Pottersues rating: bad
1. Chapter 1

I disembark from the train without a moments hesitation, though I will regret it afterwards. I wish I had paused a moment to appreciate my last moments in the wizarding world before arriving in the Muggle train station, but I didn't, I was too nervous, preoccupied by the feel of my new jeans, my muggle blazer –what was wrong with robes?!- and dragging my heavy nonmagical suitcase. I bit my lip and looked around, and someone stepped on the back of my foot and yelled at me to get a move on.

My name is Kenya Filch and like my father, I'm a squib. I have silver eyes and brown hair, which I've always kept short. When I was younger people used ot mistake me for a boy, but now at age 15 i've grown into a curvy, hourglass figure that would send boys running if my lack of magic didn't send them running the other way. Maybe that will change now that I'm a muggle.

Some squibs will live their lives in the wizarding world, taking odd jobs and surviving, as my father parents forced him to do. They refused to let a son of theirs enter the muggle world, so he ended up mopping up vomit in Hogwarts, like a common house elf, or so he complains. He gave me a different choice. So i now im standing in the muggle train station, set to go live with another squib my father knows, Arabella Figg, armed with muggle books and clothes and a single robe stuffed into the bottom of my bag. I haven't got a owl. I don't know how I'll write to my father, but maybe Mrs. Figg will have one.

"Kenya? Kenya!" I turn around. A sweet looking older woman in a sweater is waving at me and grinning cheerfully. I return the wave tentatively.

"Mrs. Figg?" I ask. She nods.

"That's me, dear! It's so nice to see you at last!"

I smile at her and drag my bag over. She gives me a warm hug and instructs me to follow her to her car. I do, gazing around and taking in the sights of the busy muggle train station.

Mrs. Figgs car is an old Beatle VW which I recognize from my obsessive cramming on muggle culture in the last two months. It's as adorable as it is old and bung up. I toss my suitcase into the back and climb into the passanger seat.

"It's great to have you here, dear" Mrs fig says cheerfully "I know it'll be a bit of an adjustment, but it'll be so nice to have another squib in the house at last"

"Yeah, I'm glad Father could find someone for me to live with… I wouldn't want to go live with muggles." I say. Mrs Figg is so cheerful that for a moment I've forgotten my nervousness, though I'm still not sure how I feel about wearing pants. Mrs Figg smiles at me and turns the car on.

On the way back to my new home, I stare out the window while Mrs. Figg chatters about her cats and her garden and the neighbor boy whom, she immediately shuts up and says she cant say anything else about him, but before I can ask what she means she starts talking about the book club she attends at the library and how they have the most interesting book their reading right now, and really I should just take a look at it it's a fascinating story! I smile, lulled by her chatter. It seems to take a long time in the muggle car to reach Pivet Drive, but finally around sunset we pull into a short driveway, lined with flowers, that leads up to a cute and cozy white house. A cat is sitting on the porch. It flicks its tail distainfully at me and rolls over.

Mrs. fig heads inside, and I drag my suitcase in behind her. The house smells of cat. She tells me that my room is down the hall, so I drag my suitcase down there and push open the door. This is the third room I've lived in. When I was younger, I lived with my father in Hogwarts. I helped him clean sometimes, but for the most poart I hung out in the kitchen and made friends with house elves. I stayed out of the way of the bigger children, but the teachers thougth that I was cute.

When I turned eleven, and I didn't get my letter, I returned to our small apartment one day to find that Father had packed up all of my belongings into a small trunk, and that my Aunt was already waiting in Hogsmede for me to move in. He said I wasn't to live the life he did, and that I needed a woman to raise me. I wasn't allowed to say goodbye to anyone, and an hour later I was on my way to Hogsmede.

I had grown up playing with the children of hogsmede, on weekends and summers, but when I was moving in, they were moving out. The children my age were now heading off to Hogwarts to learnt to be young witches and wizards, while I would spend my year working in my Aunts shop. I saw them sometimes, when they came to visit, but they didn't talk to me. I was homeschooled by my Aunt in wizarding things, and I found out that my Father had arranged for me to be sent muggle schoolbooks. i studied them, fascinated.

Now at fifteen, I was being given my first opportunity to live a normal life. My aunt had met a man named Arther Weasley, who was facintaed by muggle life, and told her all about it. He mentioned that he had a cousin who was a squid, and lived as a muggle, and somehow six months later, I ended up unpaking my suitcase in a small triangular room with paisley wallpaper and carpet of indeterminate color, stuffing my things into the closet while avoiding the tabby cat under my feet.

"Kenya! I've made cookies!" Mrs. Figg calls. I give the cat a gentle nudge with my foot and walk down the hall towards the living room. Mrs. Figg has set out a tray of warm chocolate chip cookies, and a blue chipped vase of daises.

"Thank you, they looks wonderful, Mrs. Figg." I say politely. She scoffs.

"Oh, it's nothing dear, but thanks anyway. And do call me Aunt Arabella! Remember I'm suppsed to be your great aunt you're coming to live with!" she chides me

"Right, sorry, thanks Aunt Arabella!" I say. I reach for one and am just about to eat it when the doorbell rings. If it is possible for a doorbell to sound impatient, this one sounds impatient.

"I'll get it." Mrs. Figg, or Aunt Arabella, says, standing up. I follow her anyway.

"I hear theres some new child living here." The woman at the dorr sniffs the moment Autn Arabella opens it. She is tall and thin and looks down her nose at us. "My name is Petunia dursley. I've brought you a casserole." she thrusts the casserole into Aunt Arabella's hands and stands there, craning her neck to get a look at me. I shrink under her judgemental stare.

"Thank you, petunia." Aunt Arabella says politely. "It smells wonderfull."

"Yes, thank you!" I chime in, suddenly aware that I've been staring at the muggle woman. She gives me a nod.

"How old are you, anyway?" She asks

"Fifteen."

"I have a son around your age. I'll send him over to welcome you into the neibhood sometime. Arabella assures me that you are a nice, normal young lady." she says. i stare at her in bewilderment.

"she is." Aunt Arabella assures her firmly. "A nice, normal young lady. I'm sure you'll all get aloing with her just fine." Petunia dursley sniffs and gives me a look.

"Well, I should certainly hope so." With that, she turns on her heel and marches down the front driveway back to her house. Aunt Arabella rolls her eyes as she closes the door.

"Don't mind her, dear, Petunias always been a nosy one. The casserole does look lovely though. How about this for dinner?"

"Sure." I pause "Aunt Arabella, would you mind if I walked around the neighborhood a bit before dinner? I saw a nice park down there I wouldn't mind taking a look at."

"Of course, dear! Here, take these," Aunt Arabella grabs a cloth bag off the counter and scoops a dozen cookies into it before shoving it into my hands. "go have a nice time! It's been a long day."

"Thank you!" I scoot out the door with the cookies in my hand. Outside, it's quiet. The sun is setting and few people are outside, though the occasional muggle car drives through. I stroll down the sidewalk, chewing on a cookiw and trying to get my thoughts in order. Before long I arrive at the park, a small, trinangular oatch of green surrounded by tall oaks, with a set of rusty playground equipment in the center, painted bright primary colors over the rust.

I set down my cookies and take a look up one of the trees. I haven't climbed a tree in years: I used to climb the trees all the time in the forest by Hogwarts, but the few in hogsmede weren't big enough for any serious climbing.

well, always time to remedy that. i push up my sleeves, and, taking hold of a low branch, I stick my foot against the tree and pull myself up.

Halfway up the tree, I'm laughing. Theres sap in my hair and my jeans are too tight, I'd prefer a robe, cuts on my hands and I'm laughing because i haven't climbed a tree in years, when I grab a thin branch that turns out to be even thinner than i thought. With a crack, I find myself falling backwards towards the ground.

"Oomph!" I land in a pair of thick arms and the boy who caught me and I both fall to the ground, rolling over each other. I sit up, flushed red, but he seems to shrug it off. He climbs to his feet and offers me his hand to helo me up. I take it, still pink with embaressment. his hand is soft and broad and warm, and he is eating one of my cookies.

"I'm so sorry about-" I start to say. He waves it off.

"S'ok." He says through a mouthful of my cookie. "m'pretty tough. An'your pretty cute so it works out." I blush, no boys ever called me cute before. Oh, they've looked at me, and wolf whistled sometimes, but a squid isn't someone you take home to momma. The muggle boy grins at me.

"M'dudley. who're you?"

"I'm Kenya. I just moved down the street." I tell him. "Are you Petunias son? She said she had a son about my age."

"Thas'me." he finished the cookie and licks his fingers. "Nice cookies." I laugh.

"well, you did rescue me. I guess you're entiltled to some cookies." He picks up the bag and helps himself to another one, offering me one as well. I accept it, and we walk over towards the rusty playground equipment, where he sits down. I join him.

"You coming to our school this fall?" He asks after a moment of silence. I nod very quickly and realize i probably should have said something. Dudley doenst look like the talkative type, and fi I expect him to hold up this conversation i might as well take a vow of silience.

"Oh, yes!" I say "I've been someschooled before, so I'm a little nervous about starting a new school-" I barely managed to stop myself from saying "muggle school", I have to be more careful about that- "-but I hope it'll be nice."

"Where'r you going, then?"

"Saint adams Academy. It's suppsed to be qurite nice..."

"It oughta be!" Dudley looks offended that I've even questioned the inherent wonderfulness of Saint Adams Academy. "S'where i go!"

"Oh, really?" I blush again, dammit, why am I doing that? "Well, maybe i;ll see you there, then."

"M' on the wrestinling team." He informs me "M' the champion."

"Wow."

"Yea, 's pretty cool. Me 'n my crew, ya can hang out with us sometime, since yer new."

"Ok!" I say brightly. I've never really had many friends before: I'm not sure how muggles make friends, but I hope they'll like me.

"cool. " he doesn't say anything else for a moment, then: "It's eight olclock, my mum'll have dinner."

"Oh, my aunt oght to as well. I guess we should be getting back." I say. He nods, and stands up, brushing cookie crumbs off his pants. He reaches out and offers me his hand and helps me up. We walk back down the road, and he carries the now-epty cookie bag for me. at his house, he hands it back to me and waves, heading down his driveway.

"See you tomorrow!" I call, just as he shuts the door. There is a pause, then he opens the door back up a crack and peeks out, giving me a thumbs up. I giggle, and when I arrive back at Aunt arabellas house she goives me alook like im on drugs.

The rest of the evening passes in relative peace. I read my book, a muggle love story, and stroke a succsenion of cats that sit down beside me. Finally, I bid aunt arabella goodnight and head off to bed.

It's only as I'm drifting off to sleep that my thougths catch up to me.

Not once today has Mrs. Figg mentioned muggles, or magic. I wonder if she even notices. I wonder if I'll forget someday, if I'll think about book clubs and boyfriends and nosy neihbors and not wonder what Hogwarts house I would have been in any more. If one day I'll be cleaning out a closet with my muggle vacume cleaner and I'll come across an old black robe that I once stuffed in the corner of my suitcase, will I fold it up and put it back, or will I wonder why I even kept it, will I throw it away? Will I bother to tell my children of another world that they will never be allowed into?

I've had a good day, but I cry myself to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Slight change to ch. 1, i changed the coversation between dudley and kenya a little, so i could reveal it here instead. ok enjoy! ^^ **

Harrys POV

I press my face against the perfectly cleaned back window of Uncle Vernon's sedan and glare at the rainy gray london street. I wish if I condentrate hard enough I'll phase throught the glass and run back to platform 9 3/4, I can hide on the train and live with hagrid for the summer. I'll even help feed the flobberworms. But alas, no such luck.

I've been back in muggle london for 10 minutes and I'm already sick of hearing about Dudleys girlfriend. It seems that sometime over the summer, after muggle school let out, my moron of a cousin managed to score himself a girlfriend, some new girl that just moved down the street. According to Aunt Petunia, Kenya Figg is beautiful, smart, funny, incredibly lucky and has fantastic taste in men. I imagine her as sort of a muggle Milicent Bulstrode. She also warns me that I'm not to so much as look at Kenya for the entire summer, no matter how jelous I may be of Dudley, which makes me snort with laughter so hard it brings tears to my eyes.

Uncle Vernon turns around to glare at me, but Dudley seems more interested in his gameboy anyway. I don't think he's so much as looked at me since I got back. I sigh and slide down in my seat as Aunt Petunia starts her chatter about Kenya again. It's going to be a long ride home.

XXxxXX

When we arrive, I escape as quickly as i can and lug my trunk upstaris, where I overturn it on my floor. I throw my books around the floor as I search for what I needed: schoolbooks, my wand and a few other vitals to get me through the summer. I grab everything vital and shove it in various nooks and cranies around my room before Uncle Vernon can arrive and take my trunk. Not that I don't plan to steal it back anyway, but I don't want his grubby hands on my wand.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, Uncle Vernon slams my door open with a BANG, and glares around the room. I'm sitting calmly on my bed, reading a muggle magazine. I raise an eyebrow at him. His piggy eyes narrow, and he struggles to get down on the floor to pick up the books ive thrown around the room. I don;t say anything, but inside I'm laughing hysterically the whole time Uncle Vernon is crawling around on my floor, cleaning up my room for me. I'm actually dissapointed when he finally stands up with some effort, and drags my trunk out to hide.  
I don't follow him, just continue to read my magazine. Much though I prefer magic, I have to admit muggles invent some pretty cool things. A while later, though, I finish my magazine and head downstairs, where I pass the Dursleys eating dinner, without me, of course. I sneak past and head into the garden. It may just be a habit I'd picked up from years of doing their stupid chores, but I find it relaxing to pull weeds in the garden, away from the blather of those idiots. I wonder who does this while I'm gone.

I don't have much time to think about it though, because as soon as I have a small pile, I hear someones footsteps clumping down the path, and I look up with a sigh. It's Dudley, standing with his heavy boots planted right in the middle of Aunt Petunias flowerbed, soemthing for which I'll no doubt be blamed. I roll my eyes at him.

"What do you want, dudley?" I ask

"Y'gotta get outa here." he tells me "Kenya's comin' an' she don't want you in here"

"Take her somewhere else."

"Oy, Dad said you gotta stay outta our way, did'n he! c'mon, move." Dudley says indignitley

"Make me."

He looks at me dumbfounded for a moment, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he tries to figure out how to respond. I'm planning to mess with him a little longer, but suddenly I notice a familiar sound of claws scraping along a wooden fence: pidwigeon has just landed on the Dursleys fence, a letter tied to his leg. He cocks his head at me playfully.

"Look, Dudley, why don't ou go? I'm sure Kenya is waiting for you-" I stand up and pluck a handful of flowers out of the ground, shoving them into Dudleys hand "-so you can just give her these-" I grab the back of his shirt and turn him around, turn hom around and give him a shove back towards the house "-I'm sure she'll appriciate them!" Dudley looks confused but I give him another nudge and he wanders back out of the garden, looking dumbly at the flowers in his hand, just as Pidwidgeon gives a cheerful hoot and lands on my head. Good, I got rid of that idiot just in time.

"Hey Pig." I say, reaching up and letting him hop onto my hand "What's Ron sent me?"

He hoots cheerfully and holds out his leg. i untie the letter and unfold it, reaching into my pocket absently to give Pig some owl treats. A moment later, Pig squeaks indignintely as my fist clenches around the treats, crushing them. I crumple the letter in my hand, and storm out of the garden, ignoring the flowers I;m stomping on. I slam open the door and march through the kitchen with muddy feet, ignoring Uncle Vernon's shout.

I pass my old room under the stair, barely restraining myself from breaking into a run, and nearly run into Dudley and a short girl who's wearing the flowers I gave Dudley in her hair. Kenya, I guess. She's hotter than I expected, but based on the way she's gaping at me with wide eyes, my assesment of her intellegence was dead on. I give her a sharp nod, and head up the stairs.

Upstairs, I throw the letter on the floor, and frantically begin searching for wherever I might have stuffed my quill to write back. I sprawl across the floor, bearing down on the parchment so hard my nib snaps and send ink across the floor. Finally, i roll the letter up, and tie it, attaching it to Pig's leg -Hedwig will be spending a few days at Hermiones house until I'm settled in here- and send the little owl off into the dusky sky.  
Running ink-stained fingers through my hair, I sit down on the bedspread, glaring at nothing. The letter i got- with a sigh I pull the crumpled letter out of my pants pocket and smooth it out, reading it again in case I missed soem hint.

_Dear Harry_

_How are you dear? This is Molly, Ron can't write at the moment, he's been accepted for an internship down at the ministry, just like Percy! Isn't that __great__, dear? He'll be spending lot's of time down there, under the eyes of the minister, so I'm afraid he won't be writing to you, since you certainly don't want__ official ministry owls__ winging it round your neihborhood! Fred and George were accepted for internships as well, but they've declined. The ministry sure was dissapointed when they came around and couldn't find the twins anywhere!_

_In fact, I'll be keeping Pig here busy this summer, so don't expect much from the Burrow! Hermione knows he's there, but we don't know where she's run off to- not even when the __ministry sent govermnet officials to her house__ to check up on her. Isn't it nice that they would do that for us?_  
_Don't worry about us, just enjoy the summer with your muggle family. We'll be seeing you and Hermione soon enough!_

_Love, Molly Weasley_

So the ministries decided to keep an eye on Ron, huh? I guess we were getting a little too close to their operations for comfort- at least he's ok. I'm lucky they didn't know where I was, or I'd be spending the summer in custody as well.

Hermione...i wonder where she's run off to. Hopefully, she still has Hedwig and she can write to tell me soon. As for Fred and George, I'm not as worried about them. I'm sure the Ministry will put pressure on the Weasleys to find them, but the trouble the twins will cause by escaping can't be anywhere near the amount of trouble they would cause if they were allowed into the ministry.

I sigh, carefully folding the letter this time and putting it back in my pocket. For now, theres not much I can do. I'll just have to keep up with this as best i can and not risk too many letters to the Burrow.

"HARRY POTTER WHAT THE HELL IS THIS MESS?!" Uncle Vernon screams, throwing my door ipen with a BANG. I grin, remembering the mess I made in the kitchen. I guess I have more immediate problems than Ron's capture.


	3. Chapter 3

KENYAS POV

_Was that Harry Potter?_ I think wildly. Dudley rolls his eyes at the boy who just ran upstairs.

"Dun' worry 'bout Harry, he's a moron." He says, reaching over and adjusting one of the flowers he's put in my hair. "here, let's go on a'forethe movie starts."

"Harry...?" I say, still not quite beiliveing my eyes. I'd seen Harry before, in Hogwarts when I came to visit Father, although I don't think he'd ever noticed me. He's a year younger than me, so he'll have just finished his fourth year.

"Yea, Hary Potter. He's my cousin, he won't be 'ere long, jus' for th'summer. he goes to reform school." Dudley explains. I nod slowly.

"Reform school..." Does Dudley know? I wonder. He should, right? The families of muggle-borns are usually told about Hogwarts, and I guess that these are the people who raised the boy-who-lived after his parents died. I never thought it could be them, they seem so normal, except Mrs. Dursley when she's being nosy.

"Ah, forget about 'im, we're gonna miss our movie." Dudley interupts my thoughts, and holds out his hand for me. I smile and take his hand. For the moment, I decide to put thoughts of Harry Potter out of my head, though that's easier said than done.

XXXxxxXXX

Flashback: one month earlier

On the second day of the rest of my life, I recieved an invitation to the Dursleys home.

"'An this 's my crew, Jim, Drake an' Eric." Dudley pointed to each of the boys in turn, although i immediately forgot which is which. It didn't seem to matter anyway, as they all seemed to respond in unison.

"Hey." "Hey." "Whassup." The crew greeted me offhandedly, after sizing me up for a minute. I gave them a nervous wave.

"Alright, boys, Kenya, I've brought drinks!" Mrs. Dursley interupted, coming in from the kitchen with a stack of styrofome cups and a pitcher of lemonade. I quickly stood up to help her, but she shushed me and directed me to sit back on the couch.

Though I'd only met Dudley the day before, he had apperently told his mother good things about me, as her judgemental attitude from before had vanished completely, replaced by a cooing affection id only ever seen my father express for Mrs. Norris. Apparently being Dudleys friend had its atvantages. Now i was sitting in her dining room, sipping from a cup of lemonade and listening to Dudleys friends chat amicably about their adventures at school. They seemed to communicate through a series of grunts and flexing their muscles. Occasionally Mrs. dursley would peep through the door, and duck back when she noticed me watching her.

"So, Kenya, do you have any plans for the summer?" One of the crew asked me suddenly, in perfectly clear English devoid of any grunting whatsoever. I blinked in suprise.

"Oh, no, well I mean, I just got here..." I said uncomfortably "I suppose I'll be settling in and getting ready for school."

"Really Kenya?" Dudley asked, shaking his head in mock sadness "Did'n know you was such a nerd, yeah." I flushed and stared into my lemonade. The other three members of the crew grunted at each other. The one that spoke before took the time to dump his entire glass of lemonade down his throuat and wipe his mouth on the back of his hand before he turned to me again.

"Perhaps you should spend your summer with us, Kenya. I have a sister a year younger than myself, if you hope to make some female friends." he said in the same clear accent as before. i thought this was the one called Eric.

"She been homeschooled." Dudley said to them. "she needs our help a'fore she turns into a nerd." The one I thought might be Jim raised his head and gave me a distasteful look.

"Ah-dun-thk-s-sble-tuh-ks-js-c-yah-goha-krsh"" He mumbled. Or at least thats what it sounded like to me, although the others seemed to understand him. Eric and Greg laughed uproriarsly and Dudley turned bright red.

"I do not!" Dudley prostested

"...Don't what?" I asked queitly. Greg winked at me and sipped his lemonade. He hadn't said anything yet. "what?"

"Have a crush on you." Eric translated. "Except that he clearly does, in fact, have such feelings."

"More lemonade!" Mrs. Dursley cried, hurrying in. The crew groaned. I laughed, not particularly suprised for once. Apperently I was the onlyone who had noticed her watching us.

"I'll help!" I said quickly, standing up. I was glad to have something to do other than sit there and try to hide under the table. Mrs. Dursley handed me the pitcher and backed off, presumably to resume her spying.

Dudley was still glaring at jim, but Eric seemed to find it hilarious and Greg was watching me intently with a mischevious smirk on his face. I took the lemonade and moved to pour some for Eric.

Suddenly i felt a hand push on the small of my back, and a foot shoot out to trip me, and I fell with the lemonade directly onto Dudleys lap, drenching us both. I gasped and my hands flew up to hide my face.

"Oy!" Dudley leapt up, grabbing me and heloing me stand. "Kenya, you ok?"

"Y-yeah, I'm fine..." I whisper, embarresed. (A/N: just imagine kenya is doing like a cutesy anime blush for the rest of this scene ok?) "Someone pushed me!"

The other three turned around to look at Greg, who was quietly sipping his drink.

"Fer-sm-'t dn g'arsh ya z-din er a lo" Jim mumbled. I thought I was getting the hang of this: he was making fun of me because I was still hanging onto Dudley after being drenched in lemonade. I quickly let go and shoved my hands into my pockets.

"Man, this 's stupid." Dudley grumbled. "Imma go wash up."

"Kenya wants to come!" Greg suggested, smirking. Dudley decided that this was an appropriate time to grab him in a headlock, which I couldn't disagree with. Eric and Jim jumped and and tried to pull them apart. A loud argument resulted, consisting mostly of angry grunts from all parties.

For the moment, I just stood apart from them, with my hands in my pockets, lemonade dripping off my nose, watching Mrs. Dursely rush in with a worried look on her face and shout soemthing about her carpet, and four red faced boys being scolded about the carpet, Dudley shouting at Greg, and I grinned widely. I hadn't had many friends in my life, and sure, Mrs. Dursley was weird and Eric could use a bath, and I was still going to get back at Greg for pushing me down, but, at that moment, I decided that I might not mind being a muggle all that much.

(End Flashback)

XXXxxxxxXXXX

_What in the holy hell is Harry Potter doing here?_ I pick at one of the flowers, pulling peices out and throwing them on the floor. Variations of that same thought have been rolling around in my head since i saw him, with no new insights forthcoming. I want to ask Dudley, but somehow I get the feeling it's a bad idea. He's not a big fan of magic, from what I've seen...

Dudley looks at me curiously. "Whas' wrong?" he asks. I shake my head. "Do ya still wanna go to th' movie?"

"Oh, yes, I do!" i assure him. Even this can't discourage me from seeing a movie. I'd never seen a movie before i got here, and I was so thrilled about seeing my first one that the first time we went to a movie I tried on every outfit in my closet three times and missed the entire forst half of the movie. Since then Dudley has made it a point to take me out to a movie at least six more times, and I've permantently resolved to be a movie star when I grow up, much to my new friends amusement. "Just, let me go to the bathroom first, all right?" I say.

"Kay." he says, and I give him a quick peck on the cheek before I run up the stairs, following where I'd just seen Harry Potter dash off to. I throw open the first door- Dudleys room. The second one- a closet. The third doors the charm- he's there, sitting on the bed, looking at something in his hand. I let out a shaky breath. So it wasn't an illusion after all.

"Ahem." I clear my throat. He looks up and sees me. He quickly stuffs the letter into his pocket, and stands up to greet me.

"Oh, hey Kenya." he says. "What can I do for you?"

I look him in the eye. "That depends. Are you really the Boy-Who-Lived?"


End file.
